


Resurrected

by GrumpyBookworm



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Implied Relationships, M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unhealthy Relationships, Warlocks, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 07:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16342268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyBookworm/pseuds/GrumpyBookworm
Summary: They need all the help they can get to defeat the Anti-Christ. Hopefully a spoiled brat, a mysteriously powerful young woman, a Voodoo Queen, and a catty hairstylist are the right people they need for victory.AKAThe fic that makes Gallant a warlock because it needs to happen.





	Resurrected

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own American Horror Story. It belongs to Ryan Murphy and company as well as 20th Century Fox. 
> 
> Apologies if this isn't as strong as my other work. First time writing for this fandom and I'm getting used to it. I hope you enjoy!

_**Outpost 3, 2021** _

“Find our sisters,” said Cordelia as she looked around at what had once been the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men. Not much had changed upon the switch up in ownership. The place was still as dark and dimly lit as ever. “We mustn't waste time. It won’t be long before he realizes that we’re here.”

Madison and Myrtle nodded as they walked off deep into the school to find those they had lost. Cordelia strode around the fire, staring deep into the embers. She exhaled a deep breath as she thought about the vast amounts of magic it would take to do what she had planned. If she were to be honest with herself, she was a bit nervous. It wouldn’t take long for Michael to catch wind of what they were up to. They needed to be quick in order to succeed. The sound of footsteps took her attention away from the fire as she watched as a handsome man with coiffed hair and a slick black suit marched into the room.

“Were we followed?” asked Cordelia, measuring her breaths had become a part of her prep time before she had to perform any major acts of magic.

John Henry strode into the room and eyed the former school he had taught in with disdain, “No Cooperative spies are in or around the outskirts of the facility. Except for the monsters in the building of course.”

“Thank you John,” started Cordelia, giving the warlock a grateful smile. “Your help in these dire times is duly noted.”

John looked around in confusion, “Where are the others?”

“They are tracking down where my girls are,” said Cordelia cryptically. “They’re here somewhere. I can sense it.”

“Are we sure that they’re the only ones here?” asked John. “I feel multiple energies in this place. There could be others here with magical abilities. If we have the time, I think we should scope the place out for other potential magic users.”

“The residual magical energies must be tampering with your abilities. The only magic-users to survive the…,” Cordelia paused, feeling every ounce of her heart shattering as she thought of what that monster had did to her school. To her girls. To say it was a wound that had not fully healed would be an understatement. She could still recall the pain she had felt upon entering the doors to Ms. Robichaux’s. It was a pain she had not felt in many years.

John put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a comforting look, “It’s okay Cordelia. We’ll gather those who survived and take the beast head on. You have what it takes to lead them. You can be... no. You are the leader we need. What happened in the past won’t happen again. We won’t let it.”

“As much as I love ruining a sentimental moment,” said Madison, her voice straining as she walked back into the main foyer. Cordelia and John turned to see the young former starlet struggling to carry a corpse that looked to weigh nearly twice as much as the skinny witch that was Madison. “I need the attention more. This bitch ain’t as light as she looks! Get her off of me.”

John walked over and grabbed the body’s legs, “Who’s the one that looked like she got mugged on her way to a Sofia Coppola film?”

“Coco,” said Madison as she dropped the woman’s head to the floor with a loud thud. “She’s self-centered, vapid, and makes a kiddie pool look deep.”

“Well doesn’t that sound like someone I used to know,” quipped Myrtle as she walked into the room with two other bodies, one seemed to be a girl around Madison’s age and the other was an older African-American woman. “And I for one find the Rococo-Victorian era wardrobe to be quite delightful. It gives the place a historical sheen to it. Lord knows this ghastly place could use all the help it gets.”

John gave off a loud cough as the witches arranged the three bodies in a line, “This ghastly place was something that I worked very hard to build as a respectable institution. Before my peers got power-hungry and let the Antichrist take power that is.”

“I know,” said Myrtle dryly, eyeing John with disdain under her glasses. “We would have appreciated the warning about him before this whole mess came about.”

“I tried to get to you but certain things came up.”

Cordelia held up her hands to silence the bickering, “Enough! Let us continue.”

Madison’s brows narrowed in confusion, “Wait! I’m picking up another magical energy.”

“It’s the residual energy from when this was a school,” dismissed Myrtle. “These halls were once littered with warlocks. It was bound to leave a trace.”

“No,” Madison shook her head with her face bearing a confused expression. Her eyes flicked to the hall that Myrtle had emerged from. “It’s coming from that way. It doesn’t feel like one of ours Cordelia. It feels, I don’t know, different.”

“Madison are you sure?” asked Cordelia, Madison had proven her loyalty as of late so she was inclined to believe the younger witch.

“No,” said John. “I feel it too. I’ll go with you to check it out.”

The two strode down the dimly lit halls in silence, the flames from the torches lighting their way. They entered at the top floor of a large library. They looked down to see a half-empty barrel of apples taking up the majority of the open space in the room. As they each walked down a flight of stairs, they began to take notice of the remaining bodies littering the floor. Madison’s facial expression was one of disgust as she stepped over what appeared to be vomit on the hardwood floors.

“Death by vomiting? Suddenly being strangled to death doesn’t seem so bad anymore,” said Madison as she stepped over the body of a rather attractive African-American male.

“You’re telling me,” said John, giving Madison a smirk. “I was killed at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. The signature coming from over there.”

Madison walked through the mess of vomit and corpses to stand besides John, looking down at a particular body out of the many littering the floor. Madison bent down and turned the man’s head to get a better idea about who exactly they were working with.

“He’s hot,” mused Madison, smirking as John made a noise in agreement.

The man had gelled back platinum-blonde hair with a profile that would make anyone weak in the knees. Though she couldn’t get a look at his eyes, she imagined that they would add to the man’s overall attractiveness. He wore a purple Victorian-style suit that felt a bit modern in context. Madison gagged at the bits of vomit that had stained the suit.

“This is it,” said Madison. “He’s giving off a distinct magical energy.”

“I’ve seen this magical energy before,” said John, his voice fading as a long-forgotten memory drifted to the forefront of his consciousness.

\----

_**Gallant Manor, Mid-Nineties** _

“Thank you for meeting with me Ms. Gallant,” said John as he sat down on the lovely chaise lounge seated on the expansive deck that overlooked the pool at Evie Gallant’s sprawling estate.

“Well you’ve been calling, sending me letters, and trying to get in contact with me for weeks,” said Evie as she sipped at her martini. “The very least I could do was entertain a meeting with you to get you out of my hair.”

John nodded as a maid handed him a martini off of the tray she was carrying, “I recently read that you’d gotten custody of your grandson. How are you both doing? I’d imagine losing your own child like that must have been awful.”

 Evie waved a hand in dismissal, “My son was a fatuous fool who impregnated the first bimbo to ever lay eyes on him. At least while he’s in my care, the boy will be cultured and become a member of society.”

 _Her son’s childhood must have been a nightmare_ , thought John to himself. He smirked as he took a sip of his martini. He looked over the deck to see a young boy playing in the pool by himself. The boy looked up and waved at his grandma and his guest. John waved at the boy in return and offered him a smile.

“Why are you here,” asked Evie coldly. “I have a gala to prep for and it takes hours to prep for red carpet. Someone like you wouldn’t understand that.”

John straightened his spine and looked at Evie square in the eyes, “I’ve come to offer your grandson tutelage at the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men. My sources have told me he’d be a perfect fit for the curriculum we offer there.”

“You mean that school for freaks,” said Evie, her eyes narrowing at the mention of the school.

“So you’re aware of your grandson’s gifts?” asked John, raising an eyebrow at this latest development. He hadn’t expected her to be aware of magic’s existence.

“Of course I’m aware of it,” snapped Evie. “It’s been my curse to bear ever since I married my late husband. He had told me stories when we were courting each other about how the men in his family had had a magic touch. His grandfather had had it and his uncle. We were only married long enough to have one child before his untimely passing and I was very grateful that he didn’t inherit the wretched curse. Unfortunately it’s appeared in him.”

The boy smiled as he splashed around in the pool. He narrowed his eyes at a pool noodle that had floated away from him. He growled under his breath before raising his hand. The water seemed to serve his will as it rose out of the pool holding the noodle in a makeshift watery fist. The boy smiled as he hugged the pool noodle and continued to swim.

“He has the potential to be a strong warlock,” said John, watching the boy play. “You would be foolish not to have him trained.”

“Then a fool I will be. No grandson of mine will partake in the Devil’s work. I won’t allow it,” Evie’s hand began to shake in anger.

“His power will only grow,” said John, his own temper beginning to rise up. “You can’t hide the truth from him forever.”

“That’s what mental hospitals are for,” said Evie with a cold smile. “I do think it’s best you leave now Mr. Moore. I need to start getting ready.”

“You’re going to regret this,” said John. “He will find out the truth one day.”

“Then it will be long after I’m dead.”

\----

_**Outpost 3, 2021** _

“We’ve got another,” said Madison as she and John carried the male’s corpse into the foyer.

Myrtle raised an eyebrow, “A warlock? I thought they had gone the way of the dodo.”

“Not now,” said Cordelia, guiding Madison about where to put the body before turning to face John. “Are you sure he’s one of you?”

“I met him as a child,” mused John. “He had a fairly strong grasp on his power then. He’ll be untrained but I think it’d be enough.”

Cordelia nodded and knelt before the four bodies. She exhaled and focused her energy at those before her. Feeling the power flood through her veins, she raised her arms and felt the magic at work. Madison gave a small smile as Cordelia rose and stepped back. The four gasped at once and sat up straight, breathing heavily.

“Take your time,” said Cordelia calmly. “It’s best to get your bearings before doing anything drastic.”

“If anyone asks,” started Gallant. He rubbed his hand against his mouth before cringing at the vomit on his sleeve. “I’m now allergic to apples.”

Madison kneeled in front of Mallory and smiled at her, “Surprise bitch. I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.”

“What’s going on?” asked Mallory, looking at the women before her in confusion.

“Oh not this again,” growled Dinah before storming off to the other side of the foyer. “I’m not getting involved.”

“Remind me again why we brought her back?” asked John dryly.

Coco ran her hand across her forehead in confusion, “Brought us back? What the hell is going on?”

Cordelia held her hands together behind her back, “We need the four of you to join us in a dangerous task.”

“What?” asked Mallory, confused at what exactly was going on. “I don’t understand.”

“Darling it’ll come back to you,” said Myrtle kindly. “The identity spell will be the first thing to go.”

“Identity spell?” asked Gallant loudly. “Can someone explain what on Earth is going on?”

“They’re witches. You’re a warlock. Your bitchy grandma never told you,” said John quickly. “And we don’t have much time before…”

“Before what?” asked Mallory, her tone indicating that she didn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

“Before I kill you all,” said Michael Langdon from the top of the stairs. “Again.”

Gallant felt blood rush to his cheeks as he turned to see the man staring down at them coldly with Miss Mead staring at them over his shoulder.

 _I don’t think I’m supposed to think he’s hot right now_ , thought Gallant quietly to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I basically wrote this because Gallant dying, and still being dead, is not something that is not okay whatsoever. And with the addition of Warlocks to the AHS universe, I saw an opening that would make sense to bring him back. I also brought back Cheyenne Jackson's character because I thought it'd be interesting. I hope you enjoy! Leave a comment if you can, kudos, and all that! Thanks!


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